Ticket to Ride
by Camaro-Enthusiast
Summary: If Doc never got the note, he would have died on October 26, 1985 at approximately 1:33 a.m. Upon Marty McFly's return to 1985, he realizes that with the rest of the plutonium and the DeLorean, his failure doesn't need to be permanent. He's got a ticket to ride, any place and any time he needs to be. (Complete). Oneshot for kkbeatlesfan. Happy Birthday!


Disclaimer: I don't own _Back to the Future_ (except for on DVD, but I do have it memorized, almost line for line) or the Beatles. Some lines are directly from the movie or from Beatles songs. Oh, and a few _Star Wars_ references are in there too. Kudos to those who catch them and get a laugh out of them.

 **AN:** So, this was inspired after watching _BTTF_ for the umpteenth (or probably hundredth-something) time. What if Doc never got the note from Marty about his fate in the future? That would mean no bulletproof vest. However, now that he's back in the present, and the Libyans have crashed into the film kiosk, and presumably either perished, passed out, or got arrested. Marty's got the DeLorean—that has made it back with him from 1955—and the plutonium.

* * *

October 26, 1985 1:35 a.m.; Lone Pine Mall, Hill Valley, CA

Sitting on the cold blacktop, Marty McFly looks over the body of his friend, riddled with bullet holes. He runs a hand through his hair. "This is heavy, Doc," he mutters under his breath to one deceased Emmett Brown. He looks across the parking lot where the flaming trails from the DeLorean's departure with his other self are just beginning to fade. The Libyans' van was still lodged in the Kodak kiosk, and they didn't look to be moving any time soon.

The Doc was dead. Marty still can't believe it. He can't accept it. He won't. The teen looks over at the bright yellow container of plutonium. He doesn't have to, either, he realizes.

Marty loads up the equipment into the truck. Einstein whimpers as he smells Doc's body.

"C'mon, Einy. In we go." He drags Doc's body into the passenger seat, hoping he never has to do this again. He runs his hands over Doc's eyes to close them. Anything was better than the scared and vacant look in them right now.

There's a payphone on the edge of the lot. Marty dials the emergency number, reports a car crash in the parking lot of the Lone Pine Mall near JC Penny's, and hightails it out of there.

He drives downtown and starts to load up the DeLorean. For the life of him, he can't figure out how Doc got the damn thing in and out of the truck; the doors don't have enough room to open. Eventually, he grabs the remote control and drives the DeLorean up the ramp. It's almost 2:00 a.m. when he pulls into Doc's driveway.

"I need a plan," Marty mutters to himself, pacing back and forth in front of the clocks as they tick away. He couldn't very well get up to 88 mph in the middle of Hill Valley. But Doc needed to be someplace safe. And he definitely wasn't going back to the mall parking lot. Or to 1955. He barely got out of there.

Looking around the garage with new eyes, Marty notices the newspaper clippings above the bed about the Brown Mansion. It burned down on August 1, 1962. "That's it!"

Einstein barks as Marty jumps up.

"Sorry, Einy," Marty comments. "If I go back then, I'll be able to find him! Stay with the Doc, boy. I'll be back before you know it."

Marty jumps in the DeLorean and starts it up. Half a tank of gas, a new pellet of plutonium, and the case in the passenger's seat, and he was ready to go.

Outside of town, Marty revs the engine. "Time circuits on, flux capacitor fluxing…" He hits the gas, watching the speedometer make its way to 88 mph. The world disappears in a flash of lightning and fire, but not before the time circuits flash and scramble.

* * *

Marty glances at the time circuits as the DeLorean skids to a halt on the blacktop. August 28, 1965, 6:14 a.m. That wasn't right at all. He sighs and looks around for another billboard or someplace to hide the car. He was across town from Lyon Estates. As he cruises down the highway, he comes across a sign for Statler Studebaker. It was big enough to cover the DeLorean. Marty locks it up tight and pulls some of the branches from the trees down to cover up the shiny metal from prying eyes on the road. He starts walking towards town.

"Calvin!" The shout carries across the main square in Hill Valley.

Marty turns sharply at the familiar voice. He smiles. "Lorraine."

The woman grins. "I thought we would never see you again! Where did you get off to?"

He shrugs. "I've been travelling."

Lorraine puts her hands on her hips. "Even your uncle didn't know where you were! And you don't look like you've aged a day."

Marty laughs to hide his panic. "And you're as pretty as ever." He chucks her under the chin. "So, how's George?"

"Fine, fine. Oh! And this is David," she says, gesturing at the baby in the bright red stroller. "Plus another on the way." Lorraine rests a hand on her stomach.

"I'm happy for you, Lorraine. I had a feeling."

She chuckles. "So did I. Now, you have to come for lunch."

Marty shakes his head. "I need to—"

"I hope you like meatloaf," she says, not listening. "Oh, and you've gotta come with us tomorrow too! My parents are watching the kids. We're off to the concert in Los Angeles."

"Concert?" Marty asks.

"Why, the Beatles concert, of course! It's all anyone has been talking about for the past two weeks. I sure do like them!" She pushes the stroller down the sidewalk, chatting happily.

"Listen, Lorraine. I need to stop by my uncle's place."

"What do you mean? Out on River—I mean, JFK Drive?"

"Yeah."

"Marty, your uncle… didn't you hear? His place burned down. He sold everything. Everyone says he's…crazy."

The teen snorts. "He's not half as crazy as everyone thinks. Lorraine, this is important. I need to find Doc."

"Calvin…Marty. He disappeared right after the estate sale."

* * *

"Marty!"

"George, you're looking good."

"You too," the other man says, picking his baby son up out of the stroller. "You're staying for lunch, I take it?"

Marty rubs the back of his head. "I guess."

George laughs and claps him on the back, opening the front door of the house. "Here's our new place."

Marty looks around the neighboring houses in Lyon Estates. "It's nice. Feels like home."

Lorraine smiles and starts working in the kitchen, singing under her breath with the radio. Marty picks up the lyrics to "Help!" before the radio station fades out to announcements.

"George, I need your help. I need to find Dr. Emmett Brown."

The older man sighs. "I always wondered if you'd be back looking for him. Lorraine said he was your uncle?"

"Yeah."

"He disappeared a couple years back. No one's seen him. Course, don't think anyone's been looking. Doesn't he have any other family?"

"No. It's just been me and Doc… my uncle… for quite a while."

George nods to himself, rocking Dave absentmindedly. "I just don't know, Marty. I can ask around, but after you left, he mostly kept to himself. Kept going on about some future boy. Biff and his friends roughed him up once or twice, but I made sure they left him alone."

"And the fire? Was that Biff too?" Marty growls.

"No. A science experiment gone wrong, they said."

Marty looks at his father, and then down at his watch. It was 11:15 a.m., and he was no closer to finding Doc. "Da—George, if I ask you to keep something a secret—even from Lorraine—would you?"

"Well, I don't know," he chuckles uncomfortably and stands up, putting Dave in the playpen.

"It's nothing illegal. Just… No one else would believe it," he blurts. "Do you…do you remember telling me about Darth Vader?"

George's ears turn red. "That was a long time ago. It was a dream, just a dream."

"But you believed. I was there, George. I know you did. I believed you then, even if I didn't think you should tell Lorraine. I need you to do the same for me."

"Oh…I will."

"I'm from the future. I came here in a time machine that Doc Brown invented. I need to get to him."

George's eyes widen and he sits down hard on his chair. "Science Fiction Theatre has nothing on this," he murmurs. "That's…that's why you haven't aged, isn't it?"

Marty nods slowly.

"And that's why you disappeared. And you knew the things you did. That Lorraine and me would get together. That Biff was gonna hurt her that night. Do we know you? You know, in the future?"

The teen grimaces. "I can't tell you that."

"But, what year are you from?"

Marty bites his lip. "I can't tell you that, either. If you know too much about the future—or your own destiny—it's bad. You can mess things up. Things that are going to happen, or supposed to happen."

"Like Darth Vader?"

Marty tries not to laugh hysterically. "Like Vader."

"Was he trying to conquer the planet?"

"George," Marty warns.

"I know, I know. I can't know. Alright, fine. What do you need me to do?"

"I need to get a message to Doc. In the year 1985, someone tries to kill him. And that could change everything. Will you help me find him?"

"I will."

"We will," Lorraine chimes in from the doorway to the kitchen. She looks at her husband. "And what's this about a Dark Vader now?"

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Lorraine asks, pushing curls behind her ears and pulling on the heavy yellow helmet.

"Yeah. Just…don't tell George, okay? He thinks Vader is an actual alien," Marty explains. "Now, I'm gonna record this on the camera and we'll leave it for Doc to find. I know he'll be back here before the year 1980."

"Okay," she says. "And what's my name again?"

"Leia. From Planet—"

"Vulcan," she finishes. "Got it."

Lorraine flips the visor down and pulls at the rubbery fabric over her stomach. She looks at the camera.

Marty gives her a thumbs-up and starts recording.

"I'm an extraterrestrial from the Planet Vulcan. My name is Leia. Doc Brown, you're our only hope."

* * *

After sending George and Lorraine off to their concert, Marty walks up to Doc's garage. The door was locked, but he scuffs the toe of his shoe under the rug outside and sure enough, the key is under the mat. He opens the door and drops the key back into its hiding place. Sauntering inside past the clocks, Marty looks around the garage. It wasn't as lived in as it is in 1985, but it's just as messy. He attaches the camera to the television and leaves a note on how to charge it and watch the video.

Marty looks around the garage. "I hope this works, Doc."

He pulls the door shut behind him.

* * *

The plutonium slides into place and Marty gropes around with gloved fingers to close the compartment. He starts the DeLorean and puts in the familiar coordinates of October 26, 1985. He flicks on the radio and shifts into drive. The Beatles croon, "She's got a ticket to ride, but she don't care…" right as he hits 88 mph. The music fades away and electricity cracks around the car. He drives back to town, pulling the car up in front of the garage. He grabs the key from underneath the woven rug and lets himself inside.

"Doc?"

"Great Scott!"

Marty grins. "Got my message, I see."

Emmett Brown glowers at him. "Marty, I told you! No man should know—"

"Too much about his own destiny. I know. But call it a hunch. That wasn't your destiny. Or your density," Marty comments with a snort.

Doc laughs. "So…how'd she go?"

"You gotta watch that reentry. And don't forget the plutonium."

The older man nods. "Marty—"

He hands over the keys. "So, where ya headed? Into the future?"

"'Bout thirty years? It's a nice round number."

"Look me up when ya get there."

"You bet."

* * *

THE END

(at least for now!)


End file.
